A/N: Can you believe it? Yes, I have come back to finish this after almost five years! I am eternally sorry for the hiatus, but here you go.
Explosions and Epiphanies
That simple word was pathetically incapable of expressing the complex myriad of sensations she was currently undergoing, but although she was usually a walking thesaurus she found her brain simply refused to come up with a better one. It was too busy, occupied with more important things. Her entire body was zinging with pleasures previously unknown to her, and she was more than happy to simply bask in it.
Every sense had increased ten-fold. She could hear the world around them in stereo; from the rustle of papers on the desk to the world out the window everything was amplified, crisp and musical. To her ears any part of that world she wished could be in this very room – as if to prove the point she was suddenly certain she heard Naruto's laughter from somewhere in the streets below, a fleeting, gorgeous sound that brought a smile to her lips.
She could still feel intensely, that carpet-induced sensation which had alerted her to the change still caressed her toes with increasing certainty. She followed the sensation all the way up her legs, her ankles bristling with strange pins and needles as the pores of her skin adjusted tirelessly to the cool air which flowed into the room through the still slightly ajar window. Her legs had broken out into goose bumps with the constant ebb and flow of the cotton yukata which stroked her skin gently like a velvet glove, and she could now feel the slight sheen of sweat that had formed on her chest and neck in the heat of the summer evening cloaked around her like a fine damp sheet. Her hair stuck lightly against the nape of her neck, and she could almost feel every individual strand as it brushed against her skin, etching their mark into her flesh like tiny flexible needles.
She could not avoid the various smells that hung on the air, many which trickled through the window and kissed her nose, beckoning her to them; aromas of tempting tempura and ramen, piquant scents of alien fruits, alluring bouquets of exotic flowers and the punch of pungent perfumes. And then through it all a scent that was stronger that the rest – so strong in fact that it drew her back from that world out there to the room she stood in, so forceful that it turned her head for her in its direction, as if it would not be ignored. It was salt and musk, raw and heady, and it stirred something deep within her.
She looked up at the man that in her amazement she had almost forgotten was standing before her. The scent which had turned her head emanated from him in waves. It called to her in an ancient language, and she felt her body ignite in reply. As she looked at him, she realised he appeared so much younger than he was. His hair was soft and silk, his body strong and lithe, eyes bright and youthful, and she marvelled again that there was barely a line upon his face.
His dark, beautiful eyes looked down at her, and a knowing, boyish smile touched at his lips. She knew he was feeling the effects of the drug as much as she was, and the thought began to excite her even more. She watched as he allowed his eyes to rove her body and she saw the lust build behind them, that look had frightened her not 10 minutes ago, but now she felt completely uninhibited as her own desires built in response. She lifted her hand, extending it slowly towards him, the overwhelming need to touch him taking over, and as her finger touched his skin where his mesh shirt met his bare chest and ran leisurely along its edge just grazing the skin there, she marvelled at both the pang of lightening-like sensations which shot up through her finger and through her whole body, and the way it made the great Sannin close his eyes and visibly shudder with pleasure.
His eyes opened, meeting hers as she slowly dropped her hand from his chest and began to tug the outer layers of his clothing from him. He shrugged his shoulders out of both his burgundy vest and olive green yukata at once, letting them drop to the ground as he removed his hand shields and wrist braces which soon joined them.
He stood there for a moment, now in simply his mesh shirt and green pants, and it was Sakura's turn to let her eyes rove. The mesh clung to his body, defining the very outline of him in fantastic detail - his shape was that of a man in his prime; without the bulk of his scroll and his vest and yukata he was much leaner than he appeared, his muscles defined but not bulky, his frame lithe but not sinewy. His torso was surprisingly narrow, his belly flat but rippled with abdominal muscles, taut and distinct. She realised how ridiculous it was that she was so surprised at his fit physique – he was one of the greatest shinobi alive after all – yet it still baffled her how he had managed to keep such a fine specimen of a body hidden for so long. No wonder he never had a shortage of female conquests willing to help him 'research' for his next dirty book. He was breathtaking.
Her eyes, having finished their tour of him returned to his. He stepped forward, until their bodies were inches apart. It was his turn to touch this time, as his hand reached up and he let his two fingers trace a lazy line down her neck sending another jolt of pleasure through her body. She could do little more but melt against the desk she was propped up against, her eyes closing involuntarily as the fingers met her collarbone and caressed along the line of her. As they danced across her skin and slipped beneath the edge of her yukata her breathing began to increase and she was suddenly very aware of-
He withdrew his fingers suddenly, the loss of his touch jolting her from her reverie and her eyes snapped open in confusion. His eyes were burning with desire however, and he simply grasped her shoulders lightly to turn her to face the desk. She almost gasped out loud as she felt his heat against her back, as his chest pressed fully against her. His hands slid deliberately, deliciously down her arms, then, as he moved them to her waist and across her stomach, again she was suddenly very aware of her breasts. Her nipples had hardened to the point where they were pleasurably painful, and she could feel her yukata dragging across them with every brush of his hand just beneath her bra. Her breath quickened, augmenting the friction and sending waves of pleasure through her body. Her eyes were closed, and as her head fell back against him he leaned in to kiss beneath her ear, softly at first, then lingeringly, the contact of his warm velvet lips sending a thrill down her spine.
Jiraiya was immensely enjoying the relaxed version of Sakura. She melted beneath his every touch, and although he was incredibly turned on he was looking forward to taking his time with her. He wanted to show her all of the things she had been missing out on, all of the things that no other man had yet taken the time to do. He lifted one hand slowly from her stomach to just beneath her ear and caressed his hand all the way down her bare neck to her chest, where he slipped his hand between the folds of her yukata and ran his fingertips lightly over the skin just beneath her lace bra, eliciting a sigh from her. He marvelled at the silken texture of her skin, it's pale beauty like fragile porcelain, belying the true strength of the kunoichi who wore it. He slowly stroked his hand up her neck again, and this time when he slid it beneath her clothing he pushed his fingers low enough to drag all four of them in quick succession across her nipple earning him a quick but delicious gasp of her pleasure.
Sakura almost jolted as his first finger dragged across her sensitive bud, and the three more that followed were nearly as intense, each one sending a tiny lightning bolt that shot through her breast and down over her stomach to the apex of her thighs and became a pulsing ball of heat that would not go, not matter how much she subtly pressed her thighs together to quench it. The gasp that escaped her unwillingly had emboldened him, and the next wave followed soon after as he rolled his entire palm around, under, up, and over her breast, his rough skin causing incredible friction that fed more lightning and more heat pulses.
The zing of sensation came from three directions at once now; as her breasts tightened and sparked, his mouth pressed hot kisses to that place where her neck met her shoulder sending shivers down her spine, and now he pressed himself closer at her back and she felt his erection press against her backside, sending a whole new feeling of electricity shoot through to join the pulse between her legs, multiplying it infinitely. She pressed herself back against him, rolling her hips backwards and trying to create some friction where she wanted it most.
And he knew – she didn't need to tell him that she wanted more - she merely had to think it and he responded, his right hand trailing from her left breast to tug her obi away and discard it to the floor to join the growing pile there, before slipping his warm hands back inside the now parted robe and rolling them across the flat planes of her stomach. He lifted both hands simultaneously and tugged at the lacy cups of her bra pulling the material down beneath her breasts, exposing them to the cool night air and squeezing them languidly. Then he dragged his hands down again, this time dipping one over the surface of her matching underwear and sliding his middle finger down over her as her mouth dropped open and her breathing became rapid and broken.
He could feel her heat through the textured black lace of her panties. As he touched her, he felt the shudder which ran through her run through him; it made his cock twitch against the front of his breeches, the pressure that was building there almost enough to drive him mad. But he forcefully pushed aside his desire to have her right then and ease his own burden – he focused solely on that heat centred around his finger, and the warm damp he could feel forming there, his finger becoming slick as the scent of her began to fill the air.
He began a motion of pressure and release at her back, his hips rocking forward against her rear and then dropping again, and she fell quickly into the motions as he matched their pace against the flicks of his fingertips, the friction between them something primal and raw. Her gasps were unstoppable now, and as the first unbidden moan escaped her his pace began to increase and her own body followed along involuntarily like dust in a storm.
She didn't know how she could be feeling such exquisite pleasure with most of her clothes on. His one arm pulled her waist firm against him as they writhed, the other performed a rhythmical masterpiece between her thighs, and the feeling of his erection rubbing against her backside created an erotic symphony of carnal bliss. She refused to allow herself to believe that the sensations she was experiencing were merely due to the drug which flowed through her veins. She was intelligent enough to realise that the drug and its accompanying chakra were nothing more than enhancers, not able to do much more than take each sensation and her body's natural reactions and quadruple their effects. Had she currently been under the same influence but being subjected to the bumbling Hinote's ministrations she most certainly would have been in horrific pain by now, however in Jiraiya's skilful hands she was in pure heaven. Waves of pleasure poured out in ripples from every part of her he touched, the sensitive bud between her legs the most urgent and intense. As her pelvic muscles clenched and writhed and rolled, she felt an incredible pressure building alarmingly quickly deep within, and as Jiraiya finally pushed his hand beneath her panties and slipped his finger inside her she thought she was going to lose her mind. Her breathing became erratic and her muscles clenched around him, trying to pull more of him inside her.
She almost cried out loud in indignation when she felt his hand suddenly withdraw, until she felt him turning her to face him. She turned willingly, and as he pulled his mesh shirt over his head she followed his lead, letting her yukata drop from her shoulders and unclasping her bra, another item to add to the pile at their feet. He stepped forward and took her face in his hands, and kissed her, his tongue velvet heat across her lips, his body pressing hard against her again, his fingers slipping once more beneath the lace edge of her panties and dipping inside her. She arched backwards in ecstasy, as two of his fingers nearly gave her the satisfaction that she craved. Nearly, but not quite. She shifted her weight and wrenched her panties free from her legs; the final addition to their strip bouquet.
She couldn't take the pressure any longer. She pulled him to her as she tugged his pants down freeing his desire and clasping it in her hand. It was thick and hard and hot, so hot, and she guided it to where she needed it, spreading her hips wide to him and fixing her ankles around his hips to lock their bodies together.
As he slid slowly inside her she almost cried at the feeling. Although everything about this night had been so different from any other, a tiny part of her had still flinched at the prospect of penetration; the memories of her past experiences strongly affecting her even with the evidence of the current night's foreplay to the contrary.
But now she realised her fears had been completely unfounded. The feeling of him inside her was something incredible, something worthy of being described as 'making love', something that finally matched the awed descriptions of her female friends, and the enraptured faces of the girls in his Icha Icha series. They writhed as one, their bodies rolling in time, their pace building together like a raging sea in a storm. With every roll and thrust that pulsing ball of heat within her grew and grew, until the pressure from within was so great she felt like she was going to explode. He read the signs expertly; as her breathing changed to something wild and uncontrolled, her body beginning to lose their carefully matched rhythm, he increased his own pace and depth and tried to hold her to it. But the ball of heat soon became impossible; a coiled spring that could no longer be contained, and as her toes curled involuntarily and her back arched in a spasm she felt as the ball finally burst inside her, the waves of heat spilling in a shuddering aftershock that spread throughout her whole body.
They came together, her own release pushing him over that edge that had been approaching all night, and suddenly a second flood of heat burst inside her. She felt a privileged sense of awe that she was the only one of the two that got to experience that combination of the fruits of their respective desires in its full capacity. Her body was a container of their mutual passions, and it was a sensation that could never be truly felt by a man, nor substituted by her own ministrations. Of that she was now certain.
The aftermath lasted longer than she would have expected, as they simply clung to one another, each reduced to an almost animalistic form, one that could neither think nor form a sentence, but could only pant like a dog to try to cool the heat that emanated from within.
He was the first to release himself from their entanglement. He lifted his body off her and she found she desperately missed his heat, but he immediately reached around her again, lifting her off of the desk and pulling her onto their pile of clothes with him.
She all but melted against him, tucked into the crook of his arm. They lay there like that for a long while, neither speaking, just enjoying the feel of the other and basking in the wake of their experience. Finally Sakura plucked up the energy to speak.
"So that's what I've been missing out on all this time?"
He quietly laughed. "A bit different from Hinote, was it?"
They were both on the verge of unconsciousness; she could hear it in his voice as well. "About as different as silk and sand."
He sighed regretfully for her. "I figured as much."
"How did you get so good?" She demanded.
He laughed even harder at that. "Years and years of practice, my dear."
Hmm. Sakura was beginning to think that she would never go for a man that had less than ten years experience on her ever again. His hand that was wrapped around her was stroking lightly over her arm in little circles. The gentle touch was comforting and was beginning to lull her into a state of sleep, but she managed to croak out one last thought that was weighing on her mind, as her eyes drifted closed and her body drifted nearer unconsciousness.
"Now if only it didn't take a drug to get me off..."
Jiraiya's fingers stopped suddenly. He had thought she would have understood, being a medic, exactly the effect the drug had had on her. It seemed however, that she had been too carried away in their time together to realise.
"Sakura," He started. "You do realise that the effects of the herb jutsu only lasted for a couple of minutes, don't you?"
She opened her eyes. "Huh?"
"The herb pills themselves are just standard stuff - some ginseng, lemon balm, passion flower, things like that – which would have helped to relax you, sure. But the jutsu on them only lasts for a couple of minutes, at most. After that, whatever we were feeling, that was entirely natural." He breathed a short exhale that sounded a little ashamed. "To tell you the truth, that's why they are in the back of the drawer. Tsunade and I were the ones that cast the jutsu over them. They were just some Chinese herbal pills that we were trying to enhance, but we could never get the genjutsu to last longer than a couple of minutes. I'm embarrassed to say we've been working on them for over five years now."
Sakura's smile couldn't have been wider. She leaned up and kissed him, a lingering open mouthed kiss which he returned wholeheartedly. As she finally pulled away she smiled at him again, a genuine expression of the gratitude she felt towards him.
"Thank you, Jiraiya."
Until now, she hadn't thought it would be possible for someone like her, to make someone like him blush. But there it was, and as a smile of contentment spread across both of their faces, and she settled back down to drift off in his arms, she realised that for maybe the first time in her life, she didn't feel like she was broken. He had proven to her that there was nothing wrong with her, that she wasn't lacking anything or not as good as others at something. She simply needed to make the right choices about those she shared herself with. He had helped her to cross that final line into adulthood, and for that she would be eternally grateful.
She was awakened by a familiar noise. Her eyes jolted open with a start, noting several things at once. First and foremost, that Jiraiya was gone. Secondly, in his place a small pink flower lay resting in her open palm. She closed her fingers around it as she noted the third thing, the one which had wrenched her from her slumber; the unmistakeable clang as everyone's-favourite-window burst open behind her.
She turned around just in time to see someone falling clumsily through the window, and her first instinct was to look down at herself in a panic expecting to see her naked body on display. However, she found that she was wrapped securely back in her yukata, whose obi had been tied again expertly. She had a brief moment to silently thank Jiraiya's prudence, before returning again to that window, curious to see what it was bringing her this time.
Tsunade looked shocking. Her clothing was dishevelled, and she could barely stand, evidenced by the fact that she was still using the wall to keep herself upright. As soon as Sakura saw the dark glasses affixed to her face she knew what the problem was. Her shishou only ever wore the glasses when she was ridiculously hungover, which, surprisingly, didn't happen as often as you would think. Tsunade had built up quite a resistance to alcohol over the years, so if the dark glasses were out, this one had to be pretty horrific.
She stumbled as she forced herself away from the wall and window, where the sunlight streamed into the room in a thick amber blanket. Sakura jumped up to grab her shishou's arm and assist her, and was able to better see her face, which was a pale shade of green to match her yukata.
"Sakura," She croaked out, "Please...coffee...please..." She flopped herself painfully into her chair and held her head in her hands, while Sakura found the intercom beneath the (much smaller now) pile of scrolls atop of the desk. She pushed the button and called for coffee when the desk assistant responded.
Sakura went to the side table against the wall and poured water from the jug there bringing it to Tsunade and thrusting it under her nose. The hokage screwed her face up and pushed her hand away, but Sakura was insistent forcing it into her hands. "Drink it. You'll feel better."
She folded her arms defiantly and Tsunade's upward scowl was obvious even through the glasses, but she relented and drank. Sakura always felt like the relationship was reversed when Tsunade was like this, and she felt like a long-suffering parent scolding her rebellious child.
When Tsunade finally finished the cup Sakura's questions couldn't wait any longer. "What happened? Why are you back so early? Did something happen in Suna? Why are you so drunk?"
Tsunade held up one hand while the other rubbed her temple more vigorously. "Sakura! Please, not so many questions..." She waited while Tsunade sighed, realising she wasn't going to drop it. "Nothing happened that you need to worry about, ok? I might have played cards with a few old drunks after the convention, and I might have made a few bad bets." She sighed more deeply. "Then I might have left without paying up, and I might have used a jutsu to turn their carthorse into a guinea pig."
Sakura just stared for a moment, while the hokage shrunk into her shoulders in anticipation of the telling off that was certain to follow, before suddenly breaking into fits of laughter.
The hokage slowly relaxed, looking up at her student with eyebrows knitted above her dark glasses. "There's something different about you..."
Sakura stopped laughing abruptly and blushed deeply, looking everywhere except in her shishou's direction. She saw a scroll at her feet amidst the dozen which had fallen off the table, and picked it up, an idea suddenly coming back to her in full force, an idea that had come to her in her sleep but suddenly fell in to place to present her with a solution to two imminent problems.
She turned back to Tsunade, her mouth opening to speak, but it snapped closed again in pure mortification when she saw her shishou holding up her panties by her thumb and forefinger as if they were an alien species. "What the..."
Sakura snatched them out of her hand in pure horror, stuffing them inside her yukata and turning beet red, now even more thankful than ever that one of the things her scheme would provide her with was a way out of this room and out of Tsunade's scrutiny. "I... have a mission...yes...have to leave...now..." She babbled frantically as she grabbed the pen on Tsunade's desk and quickly spread the scroll in her hands out and scrawled upon it. Just as she finished the doors opened, and Kotetsu entered with a tray of coffee and biscuits.
Sakura took the opportunity to dash, fleeing the room out of everyone's-favourite-window. As she stepped through, she just caught sight of Kotetsu's stunned face as Tsunade waved her black bra in the air like a flag shouting out after her, "Don't you want this?"
Sakura walked down the street, immensely relieved to be out of that room, and now feeling a new sense of excitement beginning to build within her. She was determined now, that she would never have a bad sexual experience ever again. She was going to choose her partners wisely, and to do so she would have to actively seek out candidates with the best potential. Starting with right now.
She knocked loudly on the door she came upon, and waited with the utmost patience as the person inside took their sweet time opening up. Finally the door swung inwards, and there stood Kakashi, shirtless and shoeless, but, somewhat disappointingly, mask and pants firmly in place. She took a moment to look him up and down, and was now certain that this was an excellent idea.
"Yo. I was just coming over to give you my report..." He suddenly realised this was the first time he had seen her out of that tower in a while. "Am I in trouble or something?"
"No." She replied. "Don't worry about the report, you can do it when we get back."
He raised his eyebrow curiously as she turned to walk back down his path. "We?"
"Yes, we. Hurry up would you? We haven't got all day."
"Are we going somewhere?"
She looked back at him mischievously, and could have sworn there was something almost naughty, and very un-Sakura like in her eyes.
"You said you wanted to have some fun on this mission." She grinned wickedly. "So let's have some fun."
She winked at him salaciously, and he swallowed hard. He could have sworn he had heard this next line in his favourite porn, stated in exactly the same breathy way.
"I'm your new medic, sensei."